How Cyrus Got His Groove Back
by Flameboo
Summary: Cyrus becomes a fry cook at a fast food chain called Fatty Burger. Through this he will find friendship, luchadores, lint, and maybe even love, but there seems to be something sinister lurking beneath the jolly, caloric exterior of Fatty Burger...and whatever it is, it isn't pretty.
1. The Birthday Surprise

How Cyrus Got His Groove Back

_Chapter 1: A Birthday Surprise_

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><p>"Happy Birthday, Cyrus!"<p>

Sparkling blue confetti flashed through the air. Mars, Jupiter and Saturn; the three ex-Galactic executives; leapt in joyful celebration as confetti rained upon them and began to amass on the crusty linoleum flooring of their tiny apartment. Jupiter blew a noisemaker in Saturn's ear.

"You shouldn't have," Cyrus said, completely deadpan. He sat at a plastic card table, staring at his sorry-looking synthetic blue and white birthday cake— the same colors as his pasty face and seldom-washed hair. A piece of confetti landed on the cake and he poked in into the frosting.

The executives stopped, exchanging awkward glances with one another. They spent a chunk of their remaining money on the cake and decorations, not to mention on the special present they were planning to give him. Money was tight in the sudden economic crisis that Sinnoh had fallen into. Jupiter even offered to whore herself out on the streets of Veilstone, but the other two assured her that they weren't that desperate.

Mars summoned a forced smile. "Oh, it was nothing! It's your 30th birthday!" she said, waving her hand. "Piece of _cake_!" No one appreciated her lame pun, especially Cyrus.

"You really shouldn't have."

Saturn looked uncomfortable. "Well…there was that loophole in our contracts that bound us to you as slaves for life, but…" Mars and Jupiter glared at him.

"But we wanted to," Mars pressed, attempting to make eye contact with her ex-boss. The man took great effort to look everywhere except her face, so much so that his appeared to be eye-spasming. "You spent your last birthday in the Distortion World, and we wanted to give you a party in our new home. A _real_ party, with a _real_ birthday cake instead of the weird giant kelp that you tried to eat last year."

"Hell, I'm just in it for the free housing." Jupiter shrugged.

Cyrus placed his fork down carefully and stared down at his cake, speaking in his characteristic monotone. "You should not have done this because I am now the closest thing to sad I can be, seeing all of you being happy and…jubilant. I will never be jubilant, because of one single mistake."

"Hey, man, don't be down…I mean, don't be emotionless." Saturn forced himself to give Cyrus a manly pat on the back. "How were you supposed to know that being emotionless for so long would wire you to stay that way forever?"

"I should have done some research," Cyrus intoned. "I despise human emotion and yet it is challenging when one cannot form facial expressions or internal emotions. But I suppose that was my fault. Regardless, I failed my greatest dream." His face twisted up and he looked constipated for a moment, but the others recognized it as him trying to make an emotional face.

"I want feel…" he began slowly. "I want feel…"

"Sad?" guessed Mars.

"Disappointed?" asked Saturn.

"Like a huge, creepy loser with has no life and lives in a crappy apartment with his former co-workers, surviving off of money his estranged grandparents send him?" pressed Jupiter.

"Jupiter is right," the man said. "I am a loser and a failure at 30. I dedicated my life to creating a new universe, and a mere child defeated me. I am no use to the world now, just another worthless speck on this useless planet. I couldn't even keep myself in the Distortion World. I got hungry. How pathetic. I might as well die. No one would mind that much, I assume."

"Harsh," Saturn whispered to Mars. "Maybe this would be a good time to give him his present."

Mars nodded and hurried away. She soon returned with a huge, elaborately wrapped present decorated with pictures of chubby rainbow unicorns. She placed the colorful box directly in front of Cyrus, accidently crushing the cake in the process. Jupiter snapped a photo of Cyrus staring at the box, smashed cake dribbling down onto his lap.

"Cyrus," Mars began, "we decided that your birthday present would be a useful one, one that might change your life for the better. We all believe that it's time for you to get on with your life, even though you can't do things like smiling. We want you to be…um, not happy, but…um, _useful_! _Useful_ and full of life experiences." She clasped her hands together, smiling widely to mask her terrible speech. "So…open it!"

The blue-haired man stared at the present, scratching at his blue five o'clock shadow. Although Cyrus couldn't hate or dislike, there were some things that he did not care for, such as cute animals, love, children, sunlight, rainbows, warmth, and candy— but above all, _colors._ Regardless, he opened the present, flinging the wrappings aside to peer inside the box and find…a piece of paper?

"This is not what I was expecting," he deadpanned, putting his constipated-face on once again to attempt confusion. "I distinctly asked for a potato peeler, not a…" He picked up the paper, staring at it.

CONGRATULATIONS!

YOU HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE JOB OF FRY COOK AT OUR QUALITY EATING ESTABLISHMENT

**FATTY BURGER**!

WARM REGARDS,

_H. C. BRADLY_

OWNER

Even after he finished reading the words, Cyrus continued to stare at the paper. He blinked.

"Surprise!" Mars shouted.

Cyrus blinked again, looking at the executives.

"Wow, he's really good at screaming in horror without opening his mouth," Jupiter commented.

"It's to get you off your feet!" Saturn announced, pumping his fist. "A real man's job! Grilling burgers! Standing over a hot burner filled with tubs of lard!

"Lard is unhealthy and raises one's chances of heart disease," Cyrus said. "I do not want to work there. It is beneath me to grill burgers, I have a college degree; and working at said eating establishment will force me to interact with other human beings."

"But you interact with us just fine," Mars said.

The blue-haired man brushed some cake off of his pants. "You are my slaves for life, and therefore I must, to order you to do things and demean you."

"_I might have a solution if I may interrupt_…"

The four turned their heads to where the creaking voice came from to see a short, stooped old man in a lab coat hunching from the partly opened basement door. He smiled creepily, revealing yellowed teeth.

Saturn immediately grabbed whatever was next to him, in this case a cheap-looking floral vase, and chucked it at the man, screaming, "_GET BACK IN YOUR CAVE, CHARON!_" The elder ducked away, whimpering, the vase barely missing him.

"Wait, Saturn," Cyrus said. "Let him come up. I believe we skipped his last twenty minutes of sunlight time, so he will have it now. And I would like to hear what he has to say."

"Thank you, sir!" Charon smirked at Saturn, adjusting his pince-nez glasses. He shuffled over to Cyrus, hiding a poorly wrapped gift behind his back. "I too wanted to partake in this fun birthday celebration, because half of the time everyone treats me like some kind of evil old mole."

"Well, you _did_ diss Cyrus and forcibly take over his position after he left." Jupiter glared at him.

Charon shrugged. "Things like those happen when you're old. One day I'm Napoleon, the next I'm insulting Cyrus, which of course is completely uncalled for!" He smiled at Cyrus and the man stared at him. "Anyway, I am no longer that mislead old man— I am an inventor, and I have to make useful things to do something with my time. So this is why I appear above ground, because I've created an excellent birthday present for Cyrus!" He slammed down a wrapped, banjo-shaped object in front of Cyrus, once again smashing the cake. "A genius creation, I do say! Simply brilliant! It is my thanks to you for housing me in my old age!"

"Show off," Saturn muttered. Mars elbowed him.

"Well, Charon, this would be a surprise if I could register that emotion." Cyrus ripped away the purple unicorn wrapping paper masking the present to reveal a circular dry erase board glued to the end of a stick. Taped to it was a dry erase marker. Everyone stared at it.

"Wow," Saturn said. "That is a fine piece of equipment right there."

"It's ingenious!" Charon stormed, turning the color of a beet. He ripped the marker from its board. "Here, let me show you how to use this. Now, Cyrus, say you want to convey an emotion and show it to the people around you, but you can't. Pick an emotion."

"Pain and torment," Cyrus said, almost happily.

"Err…okay, fine. Pain and torment. Now, all you have to do is draw a face on the circular board that looks like it's in pain or being tormented, hold it up to show everyone, and _voila_! Instant Emotion!" As an example, Charon drew a screaming face on the board. "Pain! Torment!"

"Pain and torment," Cyrus mumbled, taking it from him and drawing a big, happy face on it. He showed it to the three other executives. "Now I may use this to make you see how happy I want to feel when I demean you all." He inspected the device. "Executives, I am sorry that I disliked your 'Fatty Burger' present upon originally seeing it. But now that I can communicate my emotions, perhaps I will attend work. I believe that this will be a good experience for me. And this thing, too." He drew a sorry face on the board. Mars, Jupiter and Saturn sighed with relief.

"I'm ecstatic that you like it!" Charon clapped his gnarled hands together. "Now, might I help myself to a glass of orange juice? You know how much I love its pulpy goodness!"

"Go back downstairs," Cyrus said.

Charon frowned, a spark of anger beneath his eyes. "Just…one…glass?"

"You heard the boss," Saturn barked. "Get back down there!"

The old man turned indignantly and did so. Mars frowned at the basement door. "You know, we're a little too mean to him," she said slowly.

"Ah, he doesn't mind," Jupiter said. "He's basically doesn't have a soul, so it's okay!" She leaped over to his ex-boss. "So, dude, are you ready to start work next week? Are you _psyched_?"

"I am indeed…psyched," Cyrus said, but paused in thought. He began slowly drawing something on the board. "But there is one man whom I must look out for and be wary of, for he is the only one who can halt my quest for a normal life…"

And with that, he held up a big, fat, angry face.

OoO

Champion Cynthia cheerfully strolled down the picturesque Veilstone sidewalk, out on a brisk afternoon walk with her beloved Garchomp. Garchomp loped along, as happy as his owner, even when she had to reprimand the creature several times not eat the small children, no matter how delicious and weak they looked. Just as she was mentally running over a list of errands, something caught her eye. She stopped, having to yank Garchomp back on his leash, and squinted at a tree about twenty feet in front of her. Something was moving behind it, some sort of dark humanoid figure with its head slightly protruding from behind the tree.

"Hello?" she asked uncertainly.

The figure disappeared fully behind the large plant and then slowly maneuvered around the tree on tiptoes, revealing himself to be a dark-haired man in a large brown trench coat. He whipped his head around with narrowed eyes, hunched over to apparently make himself less noticeable. It didn't work.

Cynthia sighed. "Hello, Looker."

"Haha! Yes, hello, Ms. Cynthia!" He leapt over to her, his bizarre accent flying free. "You are quite the smart one to be able to see me, indeed! In fact, it is you who is the Looker, haha!" He stopped suddenly. "The Looker meaning to see, yes! Not the other meaning! That would be of the awkwardness! But, I mean, the other meaning, it is true for you! Yes, haha?"

She frowned. "Looker, why were you following me?"

"Well," he said, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket, "I have come to ask you for help. You see, _these_ evil men—" he unfolded the paper to reveal two crude crayon drawings of presumably Cyrus and Charon "—are wreaking havoc upon the land of your home! Yes, you see, I arrested Charon a while ago and locked him away for good, as all criminals should be! But, horror, it has come to my attention that he has escaped, and that is not good! Also, it was _you_ who helped defeat Cyrus and drove him into hiding, you should not forget!"

Garchomp sniffed his leg and Cynthia pulled back her pet so that it wouldn't begin gnawing on the spy. "What's your point?"

"Yes, my point! Haha!" He bit his lip nervously. "Ummm, it was I who was wondering if you would help me on this new mission by…by…umm…"

Cynthia looked at him, furrowing her brow. "Yes…?"

"Um, by getting the drink that is coffee at the café, which is down the street, where we may discuss these unfortunate and criminal circumstances with beverages of caffeine." He bit his lip. "For justice!"

"Are…are you asking me on a coffee date?"

"Coffee date? Haha, this coffee date, what does it mean? I have no idea what you are saying! It is for the good of everyone, our coffee date— I MEAN MEETING OF BUISNESS."

They stood awkwardly for a few moments before Cynthia sighed and looked at him. "I'm going to give it to you straight, Looker, and I hope I don't hurt your feelings. I'm not interested in tracking has-been criminals, and…well, I can't do coffee. Frankly, I have a date this evening, and I've been looking forward to it."

"A date of girls night out, yes?" Looker laughed nervously. "Yes, right? Manicures? Haha?"

"With Steven Stone. He's here on a business trip."

Looker gasped. "The Stone who is named Steven! Even in my country, we know him as the man with much money!"

She shrugged. "Yes, that's true. He's quite famous."

"But…but how could your love be given to a man who is cold and distant!"

"Looker, what are you talking about?"

"Like steel," Looker said wisely.

The champion frowned at him. "Look…Looker. I appreciate your attention to stopping crime. Keep doing that. But I'd like to live my life, free of worrying about random insane criminals running around. To tell you the truth, I only got involved because my grandma refused to take her medication until everything was safe again. So, feel free to say hi to me, but I'd rather not hear about crime or coffee, okay?"

Looker's head drooped. "My understanding is complete," he mumbled. "I will just go home and count the cracks in my ceiling, which is what I do on every night of Saturday. Bye-bye…" He dragged himself away and out of their sight.

"Maybe I was a little harsh," Cynthia commented to her Pokemon.

Garchomp was busy chewing on a Bidoof. Cynthia sighed once more and shrugged, trying to forget this blip in her day. She wondered what she would wear that night.

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><p><em>Oh, hello everyone! Long time no see! I just got a new computer and was sorting through files when I found this story! I wrote it a few years ago and don't know why I never uploaded it, but here it is now in all of its glory! It's short, about 6 chapters long, but chock-full of wonder and excitement<em>! _Tune in later for more 'How Cyrus Got His Groove Back'_!


	2. ShaNayNay in Love

_Chapter 2: Sha-Nay-Nay in Love_

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><p>"<em>She works hard for the money, so hard for it honey, she works hard for the money, so you better treat her right<em>!"

Saturn moved his steering wheel along with the music, making Team Galactic's car swerve wildly across the road. "Wow, I love driving!" Saturn said. "Almost as much as Cyrus is going to love his new job! Right, Cyrus?"

The former boss stared at him in the rearview mirror and drew something on his Dry Erase Face, which turned out to be a very angry face.

"He's just nervous for his first day," Mars said cheerfully, patting him on the knee.

Jupiter punched Cyrus on the shoulder. "Awww, don't worry about it, foo'! The other workers will be so terrified by your psychotic tendencies that they'll just _looove_ you."

"I do not appreciate love," Cyrus said.

"Too bad," Saturn announced, "because here we are!"

The team all looked up in awe as what appeared to be a huge gray factory moved closer and closer to them. Smokestacks rose high into the sky, spewing pollution into the air, while on the side of the building towered the plaster replica of an incredibly obese, grotesque looking little boy with rosy cheeks and a mischievous expression on his face. Attached to it was the restaurant itself, a brightly colored building with a drive-thru.

Mars frowned. "Wow, this is…um…inter— _AHHH, SATURN WATCH OUT FOR THE MASCOT_!" Saturn was so preoccupied with looking at the building that he didn't notice a costumed character of the mascot wobbling around in front of them. He hit it head on, causing the bloated figure to fly across the parking lot and land twenty feet away.

"OH MY GOD, I KILLED SOMEONE!" he screamed. "BY ACCIDENT!"

Jupiter turned to Cyrus. "You're on your own now. We'll pick you up at seven."

They booted Cyrus out of the car, speeding away. He shook his head and drew a frown on his Dry Erase Face, but then decided against it and turned that frown upside-down. If he was going to make a good impression, he would have to be…courteous to human life. How disgusting. He began to walk towards the restaurant, but then noticed the fallen mascot out of the corner of his eye, sprawled out on the parking lot several feet away from him. He vaguely recalled the concept of friendship and decided to try it out.

He walked up to the globular character and held his smiling Dry Erase Face up. "Hello," he said. "My name is Cyrus, and I am a new employee at this eating establishment. I hope to become _friends_ with you."

"_Whuuut_…?" The figure groaned in a whiney voice and tried to stand up, but his costume made it impossible to do anything but wobble around. "Aw, my head hurts…dude, help me up!"

"Oh. I am sorry, I am not accustomed to social cues." Cyrus pulled the figure up, who shook his fake head before pulling it off.

He was revealed to be a lanky teenager with bright blond hair and a huge smile. "Thanks man, that was some big help there, because I can't see _anything_ in that thing, I mean, it's like a blindfold, and that car thing, don't worry about it, because lots of people hit me with their cars, even when I'm not in the costume, mom says they're just jealous, but my dad says they're pedophiles…"

The boy continued, but the intense buzzing in Cyrus' head drowned out the splintering, annoying voice. He noticed something very familiar about the teenager when he first saw him, and only now did he realize that it was the obnoxious friend of the other adolescent idiot who destroyed his scheme to obliterate Sinnoh. The two destroyed all he worked for in his life. They destroyed his life. Something strange was happening to him, but he didn't know what: there was a pounding in his head and for some odd reason, he wanted to grit his teeth and shake his fists. So he did just that.

The boy finally stopped talking and stared at him. "Um…are you okay?"

"_RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH_!" Cyrus finally exploded. He shrieked like a monkey on steroids and grabbed Barry by the throat, shaking him wildly. "_YOU_!" He boomed. "_YOU_ _were that obnoxious child who tried to interfere with my grand scheme for a new world! YOU ruined my dreams of becoming god! YOU destroyed everything I had! RAAHHHHHHHHHH!_"

Despite being choked to death, the boy laughed obnoxiously. "You have anger management problems, like my uncle!"

Cyrus suddenly stopped, dropping him and staring off into the distance. "_Anger_…management. I…I was angry. IT WAS AN EMOTION!" For the first time in years, Cyrus was angry, and although now he wanted to feel joy at making progress, he still felt boiling anger. He would have to take this one step at a time.

"I'M RECOVERING," he roared, sobering when he realized he was still angry. He drew a large smile on his Dry Erase Face. "Thank you, obnoxious child, for helping me with my quest."

"My name's Barry, crazy Cyrus dude!"

"That fact is irrelevant."

Barry guffawed, slapping his knee. "You're a pretty funny dude for a psychopath! So, why are you here? I mean, you're an evil mastermind who could probably get a better job than this; me, I'm just a kid who's _best friend became the champion after beating him senselessly_." His face warped into a look of unspeakable anger, so much so that even Cyrus was uneasy, but then Barry became his normal, happy self again. "Do you like butterflies?"

"No," Cyrus said. "Do you have Attention Deficit Disorder?"

The boy thought for a moment. "I take lots of medication," he said. "But, enough about me! Why are you here?"

"I am on a quest to better myself."

"That is so cool! Let's get to the restaurant and I can introduce you to everybody!"

The two walked the rest of the parking lot and entered the restaurant, the cheerful interior empty except for a lone man sitting at one of the tables, mumbling to himself and filling out paperwork. He had dark brown hair that stuck up everywhere, and his face was affixed with a readily condescending expression.

"Hi, Mr. Thorton!" Barry said, grinning. "I brought our newest worker in, and he's super excited to start his job!" Cyrus held up a smile.

Thornton looked up slowly and stared at the two. He sighed. "Oh. You must be our new fry cook, Cyrus."

"IT IS VERY NICE TO MEET YOU," Cyrus roared.

"He's Cyrus, the psychotic Team Galactic boss," Barry whispered to Thorton loudly. Cyrus glared at him. "He doesn't know how to control his emotions very well."

Thorton gave the ex-Boss a frown that could have stopped traffic. "Well, Cyrus, luckily for you, we always hire criminals. It's in our motto: _Hiring criminals since 1891_. And since I know of your dubious past, until you learn to respect me, I'll be calling you Sha-Nay-Nay_._"

"Sha-Nay-Nay."

"You're new name," Thorton snapped back. "Welcome to Fatty Burger. You're no longer 'top dog'. _I_ am your ruler. Your leader. Your manager! You will work under my rules! I once controlled the Battle Factory before it went bankrupt, and I assure you that I can just as easily run a fast food business."

"Thorton has a complex," Barry whispered to Cyrus, loudly.

"Shut up," Thorton snapped again, standing up. "Here, I'll take you to the back where we're all setting up." Thorton lead the two behind the long front counter and into the food preparation area, filled with lard fryers, heat lamps, refrigerators, deep freezers, and sinks. "As a fry cook, Cyrus, your job is to fry the French fries in our high-quality lard, while also using the heat lamps to make sure the pre-made burgers do not become too soggy or moldy. There is absolutely _no_ need to open the deep freezers, whatsoever."

"Gee, come to think of it, I've never opened one of these before!" Barry opened one of the freezers to reveal piles and piles of stacked dead bodies. He screamed and quickly shut the door, turning to Thorton. "Hey, Thorton, why are there dead bodies in these freezers?"

Thorton mumbled something and continued his tour, but Cyrus could not shake off the fact that there was something wrong about having dozens of dead bodies in a freezer. He mentally noted to read about the social aspects of dead bodies in the freezers, and assumed it was for decoration. As they walked farther back into the kitchen, they passed two friendly men talking to one another. Thorton stopped.

"Sha-Nay-Nay, this is our Token Black Guy and Token Asian Guy. Token Black and Token Asian, this is Sha-Nay-Nay, the criminal."

They exchanged hellos and continued on, Thorton introducing Cyrus to workers including Forever Alone, Butt Head, Doofus, Fatso, and so on. Once they met everyone, Thorton stopped, stroking his chin. "I believe that's everyone, but I feel like I'm forgetting someone. Slagathor, who did I forget?"

Barry jumped to happy attention. "Hmm, that's a tough one, Mr. Thorton! If I tell you, will you give me a raise?"

"No, but I will refrain from hanging you by your thumbs in the dungeon," he said, frowning.

"Um, yes sir! We forgot Cheryl!"

"Granola, how could I forget. Follow me, you worthless peons." They walked back to the entrance of the restaurant, walking outside in the direction of the only tree in the entire two-mile parking lot. Upon getting closer, Cyrus noticed a lone figure in a long dress sitting next to the tree, reading. Thorton whipped out a megaphone from seemingly nowhere. "GRANOLA, IF YOU DON'T GET OVER HERE IN THE NEXT FIVE SECONDS YOU ARE FIRED AND YOUR POSSESSIONS ARE BURNED."

'Granola' ran over to them, looking distraught before smiling at the unfamiliarity of Cyrus. Her long green hair, braided loosely, flowed behind her as she moved. She stopped in front of them, smiling a beautiful smile, green eyes shining. Cyrus stared at her. "Granola, this is Sha-Nay-Nay," Thornton said. "Sha-Nay-Nay, this is Granola."

Barry leaned over to Cheryl. "Sha-Nay-Nay is actually named Cyrus, and he's—"

Cyrus punched him in the face and continued to stare. Something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong. There was this strange feeling in his heart that felt like little soda bubbles sparkling in his soul. He felt as though he was floating on air, which made him nervous because that would mean he somehow removed himself from gravity. Although it sounded absurd, Cyrus began to appreciate the world around him the longer he stared at Cheryl's beautiful face, who began to look uncomfortable. At first he determined that he was having an early-onset heart attack, but slowly it dawned upon him: was this…love?

"I AM CYRUS. NICE TO MEET YOU," he howled angrily, but stopped and drew a smile on his Dry Erase Face. "I hope my sudden outbursts do not scare you too much."

Cheryl stared at him for a few seconds before smiling. "That's okay, I'm just happy to meet a new friend!"

Cyrus almost choked on attempted happiness. And she didn't care that he was a power-hungry psychopath! Even better! As much as he didn't want to admit, things were looking less horrible for his new fast-food career.

Thornton snorted, beginning to walk back to the restaurant. "All right, you slaves, enough lolly-gagging. You've already cut into your shift, which means I get to deduct money from your pay the longer you spend your lives out in this asphalt wasteland!"

"Oh no, my bellybutton lint!" Barry ran off, while Cyrus and Cheryl looked on.

The evil genius frowned. "What—"

"Thornton pays him in bellybutton lint," Cheryl said carefully. "Barry is a, um, very…_unique_ teenager."

The two walked back to Fatty Burger, and while Cyrus dreaded trying to make awkward conversation about his interests (robots, world domination, shojo manga), Cheryl was content to ramble.

"I'm sure you'll be fine working here. Now, it's not _my_ favorite place ever, _my_ favorite place ever is my tree-house home where I can spend time with all of my Pokémon friends and braid daisy chains. But, you know, times are hard and Fatty Burger was hiring. What do you like to do?"

"Machines. I MEAN— recycling."

She nodded at him with a confused expression on her face. "That's…nice…"

At the restaurant, the two parted ways. Cheryl went to work as an order-taker, while Cyrus skipped back to his fryer post. He had never felt this way in his life! Even in the midst of all the cholesterol and obesity, he worked diligently through the day, powered by love. Thornton was even impressed that he had no real complaints about his new worker, except that he disliked his face. Cyrus was so in a trance that he would have forgotten his lunch break if not for Barry's annoying appearance.

"Cyrus, dude, do you ever stop being weird?"

Barry jumped up onto a counter by the frying post and pulled out a brown paper bag, throwing Cyrus out of his trance. "It's our lunch break! Man, do I love food. I packed a really balanced meal today!" He dumped out five cupcakes from the bag onto the counter.

"Food," Cyrus said slowly, suddenly angry. "I FORGOT TO PACK LUNCH!"

"Whoa, chill." Barry nervously handed him a cupcake. "We can share." While they were eating, Barry pulled out a comic book with the large face of a _luchador_ on the front.

Cyrus drew a frown on his Erase Face. "What is that worthless reading material?"

"It's not worthless! It's _awesome_. It's _Luchadore_ _Weekly_, where I get to read all about my role model, _El Gato Negro_! He's the best masked wrestler in the history of history, but his identity is secret! So secret, not even my dad knows it! He's the smartest guy in town and around! My mom says that it's bad to idolize wrestlers, and Cheryl thinks it'll poison my brain, but—"

"CHERYL," Cyrus said angrily.

"What about her?"

"WHERE DOES SHE EAT LUNCH. I AM GOING TO VISIT HER AND TALK ABOUT NATURE."

"Uh, her lunch break is different than ours, dude! It's later, but we'll still see her after our shift." He paused, then looked at the man slyly. "Why? Do you have a _crush_?"

Cyrus decided to change the subject. "Why do you allow yourself to be paid in bellybutton lint?"

Barry shrugged. "Thornton said that it was all he had to pay me in. Don't you get paid in it too?"

The man stared at him.

Barry's eyes filled with tears. "But…but…but…but…but…but…but—"

"I suggest you, er, talk to Thornton about that and perhaps he can make an adjustment."

Barry's face filled with joy. "You really think that would work? Really and truly? I mean, he wouldn't betray me like _my no-good, dirty rotten so-called friend who stole the title of Pokemon Master from me_!"

"Um, yes."

"Haha, score! Thanks dude, you're not as insane as you look or act!" He hugged Cyrus and then ran off. The man drew a scowl on his Erase Face. He despised hugs.

The remainder of the day flew by, and the three executives soon drove up to the restaurant, waiting for him outside. As he passed the front counter, Cheryl waved goodbye to him. He had to restrain himself from dancing out of the restaurant, which he saved for when he was in the parking lot.

The three executives, sitting in their car, stared at him.

"What the hell," Saturn deadpanned.

"What's wrong with him?" Mars asked.

Jupiter snickered. "I'll tell you what's wrong with him, he's _IN LURVE_."

Cyrus danced into the car, and they all drove off.

Meanwhile, Barry and Cheryl were watching Cyrus' dancing before his car drove away.

Cheryl wrinkled her nose. "Cyrus seems like a very…unique...man."

"Oh, no. Cyrus is, in fact, a very cool dude." Barry nodded approvingly. "Did you know that he runs some kind of fund for the protection of national forests?"

"What?" Cheryl almost jumped in surprise. "But I thought he was a criminal mastermind! That's so kind and green!"

"Oh yeah, well, that whole fiasco is way behind him. And it doesn't stop there. He picks up trash daily, and once, he saved a bus of orphaned Cubone from falling into a lava pit."

She frowned. "Really?"

"Would I lie to you?"

She shrugged. "I guess not…it just seems too good to be true!"

"Um, yeah, anyway, did I mention that he's rich, a vegetarian, a violin-player, _and_ he's a vampire?" He paused. "Wait, no, he's not a vampire. Never mind."

"Wow," Cheryl said dreamily. "Maybe I should talk to him more…"

"Uh, girlfriend, you do just that, but I got to skedaddle! See you tomorrow!" Barry skipped away, glad that he helped his friend using lies in order to appeal to Cheryl's affections. He crossed the huge parking lot and continued down the sidewalk that lead to his neighborhood. What an awesome day! He made a new friend, _and_ didn't get beaten by Thornton!

"Excuse me, teenage boy who's name I am not familiar with, but could you assist me in help?"

Barry whipped around to see a suspicious-looking man in a brown overcoat, looking around secretively. The boy froze, terrified. He began stuttering. "Um, uh, ah, may I take your order? No! I mean, can I help you?"

The man's face brightened. "Yes, you are indeed a gracious person! The name that is mine is Looker, and I am part of a force of police!" He held out an official-looking badge. "It is I who am looking for these two men, and it was I who wondered if you have seen them lurking about!"

Looker held up a worn piece of paper to Barry's face, and Barry's eyes widened to see Cyrus and some old man's face in the Wanted box. "Um, uh, er, huh…" He began to gargle with worry. He couldn't betray his friend, but the man seemed so scary with his brown overcoat! Maybe he was a pedophile! His mom told him to watch out for those!

"Important it is that you tell me if you have seen any of these evil men, because they do great harm to our region!"

His eyes began to tear. "Um, uh, uh, uh, uh…I GOTTA GO POTTY REAL BAD!" Barry sprinted to his house, screaming.

Looker stared after him and then sighed. "Oh well. It is I who is the bad policeman, trying my best to bring criminals to their justice. It is I who will go home now to count the cracks on my ceiling…"

And Looker walked off, sad once more.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you liked this one! Sorry it took a little longer; busy with lots of things!<em>


	3. Manual Labor Duty

_Chapter 3: Manual Labor Duty_

* * *

><p>Cyrus' previously mundane, useless life was slowly turning upside down. His days began to revolve around his new job, his few newfound emotions, and not to mention his huge crush on Cheryl. That was the best part— every time he saw her smile or wave, he wanted to float in the air and sing happy songs and spread good cheer to everyone around. And he wasn't embarrassed about it, not in the slightest. It was almost impossible to think that his executives had actually done something right for <em>once<em>.

The only problem, though, was the small issue of controlling his new emotions. The ex-boss enjoyed being able to interact on some level with other human beings, although he was not quite the best at managing his feelings and would often use a grossly inaccurate tone for everyday things.

"_PASS THE GREEN BEANS, PLEASE_," Cyrus screamed angrily at the dinner table while his executives stared.

"_I LIKE YOUR DRESS, CHERYL_," he roared, attracting the attention of every person in Fatty Burger.

"_FLOSSING REDUCES THE CHANCE OF GINGIVITUS_!"

At home, the three executives were quite happy with Cyrus working, despite these startling outbursts. They didn't have a tyrannical overlord watching over them all day, so for the most part they could do whatever they wanted. Saturn took up gardening after years of suppressing his desire to plant things, Mars knit sweaters for everyone and resumed working on her death ray, and Jupiter did what she usually did: dressing up like a drag queen and seeing how many people could guess if she was a man or woman. Charon was even able to sneak upstairs for the prolonged time of five minutes, and for the first time in a year poured himself a glass of orange juice without having something thrown at him.

Meanwhile, at Fatty Burger, Thorton was grumpily inspecting the deep freezers when he heard the unmistakable roar of Cyrus having another angry fit. He attempted to ignore it, but Thorton had as much patience as a viperfish chained to a rock, so he stormed over to the fryers, fuming. There he found Cyrus screaming at Barry, although Barry was sitting on one of the counters, looking as if nothing was wrong.

"AND THEN IN A FIT OF INSANITY I OPENED THE PORTAL TO THE DISTORTION WORLD AND—"

Thorton snapped. "_You_!" he barked, pointing a finger at Cyrus. The other man turned and silenced immediately.

Cyrus drew a very innocent face on his board. "Yes?"

"I don't understand you!" the manager fumed. "You have countless angry fits, you say you can't control your emotions, _and_ you have naturally blue hair? That's ridiculous! You're getting to be a pain in the ass, even more so then that kid Slagathor!"

"Hey!" Barry exclaimed, face saddening. "I thought I was the most annoying here!"

"You claimed that you hired criminals all of the time," Cyrus said. "Most criminals are prone to angry outbursts and uncontrollable emotions. You should be prepared for this already."

Thorton grasped his clipboard, knuckles bright red. "_Yes_, that's _true_, but I just don't like you. You've got sass and are completely too smart to be here, and I don't appreciate when there are smarter or sassier people than me in the vicinity."

Cyrus drew a frowning face. "Sass…? I do not have sass. I am mostly emotionless."

Suddenly, a large fabulous sassy woman ran up to Thorton and snapped her fingers in his face. "Uh, boy, _this_ is sass, and don't you ever forget it!" She promptly ran away.

Thorton, in a blind rage, snapped his clipboard in half and threw it across the room. "THAT WAS THE LAST STRAW! I will _not_ tolerate your angry outbursts, your blue hair, your arrogance, _nor _random sassy women running up to me! Sha-Nay-Nay, you are officially on _MANUAL LABOR DUTY._"

Barry gasped and fainted.

Several employees ran up to the three, gasping in horror. "Oh no!" cried Token Asian Guy.

"Manual labor duty," Cyrus said. "Sounds like something I forced my inferior lackeys to do."

"That's _exactly_ what it is!" Thorton exclaimed, grinning. "Now you have the privilege of doing menial and strenuous labor around the restaurant, such as scraping the old gum off of the bottom of tables or giving me a pedicure."

Cyrus blinked. "Wait, what—"

Thorton laughed uproariously. "Just kidding! But still, you're screwed! Enjoy hell, punk!"

For the first time in a while, Cyrus cringed. If there were two things he feared, they were manual labor and _feet_. They were gross, weird looking, and harbored many germs, which he could not tolerate. All of the other employees looked disgusted as well.

"My first task for you will be to collect all of the trash from around the restaurant and take it to the dumpster out in the back. After that, report back to me and I'll think of something humiliating you can do." Thorton skipped off happily, humming to himself.

"He likes torturing his employees, if you haven't already noticed," Token Black Guy said.

The crowd dispersed and Cyrus pouted, pacing back and forth. "I will not be forced into manual labor! This is preposterous!" Yet he couldn't risk losing his job and becoming a worthless schmuck again. Defeated, he hauled a large, putrid trash bag from a nearby trashcan and began dragging it to the back of the store. Soon, Barry leapt up from behind him, dragging a trash bag as well.

"Whoahohoho!" Barry exclaimed. "Boy, Thorton was mad at you! Whew wee mama, it was like that time when I broke the expensive vase my mom bought because I was jumping around the house pretending to be my favorite masked wrestler, _El Gato Negro_, and then she yelled at me and I had to do chores for a whole entire year and then I got a rash—"

"Please leave," Cyrus said.

"But I'm helping you! That's what friendship is for!"

"I do not want friendship at the moment, I want to be left alone to sulk."

"Sulking is an emotion!"

Cyrus sulked even more until it was as if he was a blob of sulk. "Well then, I hate this one. Now please leave."

"You don't even know where the dumpster is!"

"Fine."

Barry giggled and hurried ahead, leading Cyrus outside into the back of the parking lot, a desolate asphalt desert reeking with the thick smell of grease. A huge gray dumpster appeared before them, and although the smell of grease enveloped the air, whatever was in the dumpster stunk even more.

Cyrus' eyes watered as he held an arm over his nose and mouth. "This is disgusting. It smells horrible here."

Barry inhaled mightily. "It's a dumpster, after all. _Mm_, smell that rotten goodness!"

"It smells like death. I might as well get this sordid task over with." He hoisted the trash bag up to the side of the dumpster, but before he could dump it in, a beautiful, familiar voice sung out behind him.

"No, stop, what do you _think_ you're doing!"

Cheryl ran up from behind him and plucked the trash bag from his grasp, setting in down on the ground. She begin to dig through the bag, an intense look of concentration on her face.

"Um," Cyrus said.

She triumphantly held a crumpled ball of paper up from the mound of rancid trash. "Ha, just as I suspected! This trash hasn't been sorted through! Of course, when is it?" Her forehead creased and she sighed up at Cyrus. "I'm sorry that I just ran up to you and ripped a trash bag from your hands. My recycling senses were tingling and I just _knew_ that there was a recyclable material in the bag. I had to stop it. You like recycling too, right? Barry told me all about you!"

Cyrus stared at Barry.

The boy laughed nervously. "Haha, um…GTG!" He sprinted for the building, smashed face-first into the door, and then ran inside.

"I love nothing more than…recycling. It's such a fun activity." Cyrus wretched mentally.

"I _know_!" she gushed, waving her garbage-ridden hands about. "That's one of the only fun things I get to do here."

He scratched his chin nervously. "Maybe sometime we…can…recycle…together?"

"_FREEZE_!"

Cyrus and Cheryl whipped around to see Looker, police badge in one hand and aiming a water gun at them with the other. "It is you, sir," he cried, "that is under arrest!"

_Great_, Cyrus thought. _Cockblocked by a policeman_. He held up another innocent face on his erase face. "I think there has been a misunderstanding. I am no criminal, and that is not even a real gun."

Looker quickly tossed away his gun. "That is true, but that does not change the fact that it is you who is Cyrus, crazy leader of Team Galactic, guilty of trying to take over this world! It is a thing that is good that I was going to warn this corporation of Fatty Burger to be on the look out for you!"

"My life of crime is over," Cyrus said angrily. "I have a stable job and a fixed income!"

Looker raised a fist in the air. "Haha, yet it is crime that never sleeps, and because of that, it is Looker who must be ever vigilant, like the man that is a bat!"

"Sir, please," Cheryl asked calmly, her expression imploring. "Cyrus has been a valuable part of our Fatty Burger team for the past few weeks and we appreciate what he does. I see no reason why you should arrest him, even after he attempted to destroy the universe as we know it."

"Ummmm," Looker said nervously. "But it is I who must arrest—" There was suddenly the sound of a cell phone ringing. "Oh my, it is my…how do you say, cellular device! Hold one moment, criminal Cyrus and girlfriend of Cyrus!" He dug the cellphone out of his pocket and answered it. "Hellooo?"

"_WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH_," Cynthia sobbed loudly, even Cyrus and Cheryl cringing with the noise.

Looker gasped. "Oh my! What is it that is bothering you? Is it danger? Intrigue? Should I rescue you?"

Cynthia sniffed, composing herself, but then burst into tears again. "_HE'S GAAAAYYYYY_!"

"The man who is Steven Stone, he is of the homosexual persuasion?" Looker frowned. "Well, as we say in my country, 'Duh'!"

"We went out on one date and then he dumped me for some young French guy! I'm coming back to Veilstone. Don't bother contacting me, I'm going to go lock myself in my house and eat nothing but Ben and Jerry's for a week!"

"No, Cynthia! It is I who shall comfort you! I will—" He stopped, at a loss of ideas. "I, um, um—"

Cheryl looked at Looker pointedly. "Don't arrest Cyrus and we'll provide you with a reserved booth for you two and as many free burgers as you want."

Looker looked at them skeptically.

"And a free smoothie," Cyrus said.

"Deal!" Looker cried, going back to his phone. "Cynthia, you are beautiful like one thousand shining suns, and do not deserve to be treated like a hag! We will go to Fatty Burger and eat many fatty burgers together, sounds like the plan?"

She sniffed. "I guess that sounds good…I'll see you there in two days."

After Looker hung up, he did a little leap of joy and then composed himself. "Wow! I did not know criminals and their criminal girlfriends were so good at making of the matches! I will let you live your sinful lives!" He glared at them. "For now! Hahaha!" He happily skipped away, singing.

"Huh, that was really interesting," Cheryl said.

Cyrus blinked, feeling another emotion coming on. Sadness. "Well, I suppose you do not want to recycle with me anymore…"

She looked up and frowned at him. "Look, I'm not an idiot. I read the newspaper and have seen your face plastered all over it. In fact, I have to look at your face everyday because I use newspaper as carpet. But, the way you're working here makes me think you're trying, in some way, to become a better person…right?"

"Yes…?"

"Well, if that's the case, then I wouldn't mind helping you on your way."

Cyrus scowled angrily at her in joy but then remembered the concept of smiling and forced his mouth to turn upwards at the corners. It looked as though he had eaten something disgusting.

"We'll work on smiling," Cheryl said gently.

They walked back to Fatty Burger, hand in hand, through the thick stench of consumerism and grease. Yet something was still amiss…

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed this chapter!<em>


	4. Fatty Secrets

_Chapter 4: Fatty Secrets_

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><p>Cyrus whistled a cheery tune as he walked into Fatty Burger that fine day, tipping his invisible hat to everyone he walked past. He was in a mood, as in he felt something, which to him was fantastic regardless of what he felt. As he made his way back to the kitchen area he passed Looker and Cynthia sitting at a booth, Cynthia finishing up her third 'Artery Clogger Deluxe'. Looker sat on the opposite end of the booth, seemingly frightened at how much the Champion was eating. He clutched his smoothie in one hand.<p>

Cyrus made his way behind the counter, stopping to let a large man pass by who was heading off to complain to Thorton about something. Nothing could spoil his day, because he was on a mission— today, he was going to ask Cheryl on a date. This 'date' event cost him much time and thought— for days he pondered long and hard about what kind of date he should ask her on, and naturally he asked his most trusted advisors about it.

"As a modern and respectable woman," Mars announced, "I know that whenever _I_ go out on a date I expected to be treated with complete and utmost respect, which includes a box of chocolates, flowers, a chauffeur, a mongoose, some rope—"

"Never mind," Cyrus sighed. "What about you, Saturn, do you have any dating ideas?"

"I always love a good knitting class and maybe some paella afterwards."

"…Indeed. Jupiter?"

"You should dress up in furry animal costumes and have sex," Jupiter suggested.

Cyrus stared at her.

Jupiter stared back.

"You are disgusting," he said.

"No, I'm French," she said.

Clearly Cyrus was on his own on this one, also due to the fact that he didn't trust teenage boys giving him date advice, namely Barry, because apparently the only girlfriend he ever had was a booger he named Marcy. Finally, after going on several dating websites and hypothesizing the best date scenario, he chose the classic dinner and a movie. He avoided choosing the movie about sparkling vampires battling werewolves and instead chose a romantic comedy where everyone gets married in the end, because that's basically how they all turn out.

Now, though, the task at hand was to ask Cheryl. She wasn't at the counter at the moment, so Cyrus sat at his frying area, wracking his brain on the smoothest way to ask her out. After quite a while of Cyrus sitting and thinking, Thorton began to peek at him from his clipboard angrily, furious that Cyrus wasn't working. If there were two things Thorton hated, it was lazy blue-haired men and small rodents. And both were a problem at the moment.

"SHA-NAY-NAY," Thorton screamed as he walked over to Cyrus, spit flying from his mouth. "SHA-NAY-NAY. What are you doing."

"It appears that I am sitting at the moment—"

"Shut. Up." Cyrus did so. "Look, slave, you aren't working, and I don't like that. But, since I'm a kind and gentle manager, I'll give you another chance to redeem yourself. There's a Bidoof running around here, making a mess of everything. Last time I saw it, it crawled into the vent running from the back wall. I want you to go after that thing and kill it— in fact, just beat it with that weird circle and a stick you're holding."

"Beating things to death is not my forte," Cyrus said.

Suddenly, another voice sprang up from behind them. "Oh my gosh, no!" Cheryl came running over, her face crossed with anxiety. "I just heard that there was a poor Bidoof on the loose!"

"And it will be a dead Bidoof soon," Thorton said.

She looked at him in honor. "Please, no! I won't let that happen. I'll accompany whoever is going to find the Bidoof and coax it from the restaurant with my singing voice, which attracts all woodland creatures within a radius of 5 miles. Would anyone like to hear it?"

"Yes," Cyrus said.

"NO," Thorton grunted. "But you know what I'd like to hear? You two going after the Bidoof and getting it out of this restaurant! So go or both of you are fired!" And with that, he stormed away.

"Wow, Thorton is especially mean today," Cheryl commented. "You must have made him really angry. What did you do?"

"Nothing," Cyrus lied.

"Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Let's find that poor little Bidoof and get it home safe and sound!"

The two approached the back wall vent, its cover open from the Bidoof. The inside of the vent was clogged with dust and a musty odor wafted from it. Cyrus found it completely disgusting and wished he had some scented antibacterial hand wipes, but he decided to appear manly instead.

"Well, I suppose we have to go in there," he said. "Is it too dusty for you?"

"Oh, please!" Cheryl scoffed. "As I always say, dust is just life's poop! I'm fine with it! Move over!" She pushed him aside and crawled into the vent, disappearing into the dark.

"Uhh…" Cyrus gingerly followed after her, trying not to think about the that lurked within. The vent continued for several feet, all light filtering away as they continued on.

After a few minutes of crawling, Cheryl stopped. "Oh, darn."

"What is it?"

"Hmm…" Cheryl waved her arm out in front of her to meet empty air. "There's a drop in the vent right here…I guess that poor Bidoof fell down it. I'm just not sure of how far a drop it is."

"Well, we can't go back. I have a quarter, drop it down the vent and see if we hear it land. That will give us an idea of how far it goes down." Cyrus gave her the quarter and she tossed the coin down the vent. Nothing, no sound at all. "Perhaps we should go back."

"But that little Bidoof is probably trapped down there somewhere, alone, cold, and hungry!"

"We could get a rope," he suggested, hating to see Cheryl sad.

"Good idea, but it'd be terrible to face Thorton again…"

"YOU GUYS SHOULD MAKE OUT," Barry screamed.

Cyrus, terrified by the sudden voice, shrieked and shot forward away from the voice, bumping into Cheryl and sending them both hurtling down the vent. Barry giggled and jumped down after them.

The three tumbled out of the vent and landed in a heap on a bright linoleum floor. All three made various noises of pain.

"My spine…"

"My leg!"

"That was fun," Barry said.

Cyrus scrambled up and grabbed Barry's neck, beginning to strangle him. "_YOU LITTLE IDIOT, NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID_!"

"IT WAS ONLY A _JOOOKKKKEEE_," Barry sobbed.

Cheryl dusted herself off and pushed the two away from one another, sighing angrily. "Guys, please calm down. This is nothing to be worried about. We're not dead, nothing is broken, and it looks like we just fell into the Fatty Boy headquarters. Let's just tell someone what happened and they'll send PETP to get the Bidoof."

Cyrus decided not to tell her that he was wanted by the PETP, or 'People for the Ethical Treatment of Pokemon'. He dropped Barry from the grasp on his neck. "I suppose. Let us see if we can find anyone in the vicinity to help us."

The three left the empty room they landed in and went out into the hallway. Fluorescent lights cast a glow upon the hallway but no sign of any life. As they continued on, a flash of brown suddenly shot across their path, scuttling into another room on the hallway.

Cheryl gasped. "That was the Bidoof!" She darted after it, singing unstably. Cyrus and Barry followed after her.

As the two entered the room behind Cheryl, a blast of cold air hit them— it looked like a freezer room, similar to the small one in the restaurant itself. Cheryl held the Bidoof, cooing to it, as Barry's eyes lit up.

"Whoa," he exclaimed, running up to one of the freezing units. "This looks exactly like the ones in the restaurant!" He wrenched it open. "And it has frozen dead bodies in it, exactly like the ones in the restaurant!"

"_What_?" Cyrus and Cheryl asked sharply.

"Check this mofo out!" Barry grinned excitedly as his two companions looked on in horror at the contents of the freezer. The unit was filled with stacks upon stacks of frozen corpses, still clothed in their last state of dress but incased in a thin layer of ice. Their skin was a sickening blue-gray.

"This is _disgusting_," Cheryl backed away from the freezer. "Why…why is this here?"

Cyrus opened another freezer to see the same contents. "This does not seem like a normal item to shock a freezer with."

Barry laughed and shut the freezer. "Guys, it's _fine_, Thorton said we're helping out a funeral home while they're getting reconstructions done, we just have to keep all the dead bodies here for a while!"

Cyrus glared at him. "Thorton also told you that bellybutton lint was a perfectly legitimate form of currency."

"DON'T MENTION THE BELLYBUTTON LINT," shrieked Barry, burrowing his face in his hands.

"Guys," Cheryl snapped. "I think it's time we find a way out. Let's look for another vent that would lead us back to the restaurant. There's bound to be one close by."

Barry dried his tears and the three returned to the hallway, trailing along quickly and silently. They passed by an office with a slightly opened door and doubled back, peeking into it. There was a vent high in the wall and a desk filled with papers. They slipped into the room and locked the door behind them.

"Yay, a locked room murder mystery!" Barry exclaimed.

"Shut up." Cyrus analyzed the situation. "If we push the desk to the wall, we can pry open the vent and see where it leads us."

Cheryl nodded. "Okay, sounds good. You push the desk, I'll pry open the vent, and Barry…"

Barry was picking his nose.

"…Barry, you keep watch. I have a feeling that this office person will be back soon, who'd leave their door open like that?"

As Cheryl reached up to pick the vent open, Cyrus pushed the desk to the wall and attempted to climb up on it. As he did so, his foot hit some papers and they scattered to the floor. Concerned by the disarray and fuelled by his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, he went to collect the papers off the ground. However, as he did so, a design caught his eye. One paper had extensive blueprints to some kind of bizarre machine that looked like a cross between a spaceship and a mechanical octopus. The blueprints were too complicated for even him to understand fully.

Cheryl crossed over to him, frowning. "What's up?"

"This." He showed her the blueprints. "It seems like it is some kind of machine, although much too complicated for me to look at now. I would need some reference material first."

She collected the rest of the papers on the ground, flipping through them. She stopped at one paper, suddenly gaping. "Oh…oh my god!"

"What?"

"Look at this ingredients list for a normal Fatty Burger!" She showed the paper to him and they read the list together: '100% REGION CERTIFIED MYSTERY MEAT, OXYCOTTON.' Cyrus paled. "They're putting highly addictive pain-killers into the burger meat!" she continued. "I'm sure that is highly, highly illegal!"

"What about the dead bodies? And this strange blueprint?" They exchanged worried glances. "I will take this with me. Do the same with the Fatty Burger ingredient list. I suggest we make like a tree and depart through the vent."

They quickly hopped up onto the desk and into the vent, almost forgetting Barry (not that anyone would have probably cared). After quite a lot of crawling they broke through the vent on the other side and exited out into the front parking lot of the Fatty Burger restaurant.

Cheryl coughed at the dust kicked up from their presence in the vent. "That was a terrible experience. I would throw up right now if I could, but since I only exist on a diet of rainwater and rice cakes, that's not possible."

Cyrus turned to Barry. "Barry," he said sternly. "If anyone asks you about this, it was all your fault, do you comprehend?" Barry grinned and nodded. Cyrus took the Bidoof from Cheryl and handed it to Barry. "Take this to Thorton and say that you were actually hiding it in your shirt the entire time, and then pick your nose or something of the like to appear very stupid."

Barry nodded, then frowned. "And what do I get out of this?"

"Bellybutton lint."

Barry giggled happily and ran away. Cyrus sighed in a decidedly depressed tone.

"I know, this is absolutely horrible," Cheryl said. "I would never imagine such terrible things could go on."

Cyrus was actually sighing because he was depressed about not asking Cheryl out on a date anymore— the whole dead bodies, drugs, and weird machines thing somewhat ruined the atmosphere. "I know, I as well—"

"We have to find out what's going on and stop this!" she interrupted fiercely, stomping her foot. "There is no way we can let this injustice continue. You'll help me, Cyrus, won't you?" She looked at him pleadingly with her big green eyes.

"_Duh duh duh duh_," Cyrus babbled, then composed himself. "Of course! Innocent people are dying. However, we must plan and research first, or else we risk a sloppy execution."

"Well then, let's make it someplace safe. Can we go to your house? I would say my house, but it's actually not a house, it's a tree, and as a result I really have no material possessions besides clothes, and don't really value them either."

Cyrus beamed. "I do not value material possessions either, what a coincidence!"

"Cyrus, that's because you attempted to destroy this world and create a brand new one with no emotion, I do it because I'm a conservationist."

He sulked.

She patted him lightly on the shoulder. "That's okay, I still accept you for who you are! I'll see you tomorrow at noon, okay? Remember, keep this a secret! Adios!" She hustled back inside Fatty Burger to grab her coat.

Cyrus pondered as he waited for his carpool. Hypothetically, they were still going on a date. That would mean he would still need to complete his checklist: comb his hair, shave his blue stubble, have Charon wash his nice shirt, and hide the death ray, just to name a few things.

Soon Saturn rolled up in the car. Mars poked her head out of the window. "Hey, why are you standing in the middle of the parking lot? You know that makes you look weird!"

Cyrus ran up to them wildly, throwing the car door open and leaping in. "YOU ALL MUST CLEAN THE HOUSE IMMEDIATELY. THAT IS AN ORDER."

They drove away from the parking lot and Saturn peered back at him in the rearview mirror. "Is, um, something wrong?"

Jupiter looked at her ex-boss in disgust, fake gagging. "Oh please, you just made me hold back a baby barf. I know what's wrong. He's in _love_."

But Cyrus just grinned, despite the suspicious blueprints he clutched in his hand, and the new and sinister knowledge of Fatty Burger tucked away in his mind.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Tune in next week for another exciting episode!<em>


	5. Gone to Save the World

_Chapter 5: Gone to Save the World_

* * *

><p>Everything was perfect.<p>

The dirty linoleum tiles were now spotless. The dead plants in the windowsills were replaced with blooming spring flowers. The painting of Cyrus as several deities— Muhammad, Buddha and the Virgin Mary— was only a faded spot on the wall, banished to a closet. The death ray was shoved into a corner, covered with an expansive white tarp. It did not look suspicious at all, or at least Cyrus thought so.

The Executives were gone; the moment Cyrus said, "You are free for the day" Saturn took the car and drove off, Mars scurried away to do some gardening, and Jupiter went out the door dressed as a banana.

Cyrus went over his mental checklist of what a date included. A clean house, food items, being well dressed— he looked down at his shirt. It had several bloodstains on it. It must have been from pre-Distortion World. This was not good. Suddenly, he remembered asking Charon to iron his nice shirt.

He opened the door to the basement, the stairs leading down into darkness. "Charon!" he shouted. "Did you iron my shirt?"

There was no response.

"The blue one? As all of my shirts are blue?"

Again, no response.

Cyrus frowned and switched on the lights leading down the stairs. He was hesitant to descend into the basement, not because he was afraid of basements but because he'd never been in the basement before. It was simply given to Charon as his living quarters and that was that.

He found a light switch at the bottom of the stairs and massive fluorescent lights illumined the cavernous underground area.

It seemed that Charon had been at work. The basement was filled with gleaming machinery of all kinds and a massive computer screen on one side of the room. Cyrus spied the destroyed washing machine wedged under the stairs, used for parts and only its shell left. Clothes were piled up next to it. _His_ clothes. And they were still not washed.

"That is very unhygienic," he said to himself, peering around the room.

A twinge of jealously hit him. Why did Charon have the time to build machines while he toiled away at Fatty Burger? He inspected the large computer unit, peering at some papers on the desk below. Just as he was going to continue on, something caught his eye.

He picked up a sheet of paper that looked very familiar, and realized with a start that it was the list of ingredients in a signature Fatty Burger— the same list he found in the Fatty Burger headquarters with Cheryl. This was indeed a strange coincidence…

…but perhaps more than a coincidence. He continued searching the desk, sweeping papers away to reveal a large blueprint under the papers. He picked it up, inspecting the machine plans depicted on the blueprint. From what he could gather the machine resembled a giant robotic octopus: a glassed-in control pod supported by eight massive machine legs. In back of the control pod there seemed to be a gaping machine hole that intermixed with the machinery, and on further inspection seemed to somehow connect to the user of the machine.

Cyrus frowned at these complicated plans and then looked up at the computer screen. Something very strange was going on. Experimenting, he tapped a key on the computer keyboard. The screen lit up with two, white-blocked words:

PASSWORD NEEDED

He thought for a moment and then punched 'orangejuice' into the system. Something whirled within the computer. Figures.

Suddenly, the screen flashed white and Charon's face dominated the massive screen. Cyrus jumped back in shock, not expecting the old man's grotesque face to appear before him.

"YOU!" Charon boomed through the computer speakers. "What are you doing in my laboratory?"

"What…what are you doing outside of your laboratory?" Cyrus asked stupidly, at a loss in this strange situation. He quickly composed himself. "Why do you have paperwork from Fatty Burger, and what are these blueprints?" He held up the crumpled paper in his hand.

"Well, I suppose there's no use hiding it anymore now that you've discovered my secret laboratory. I'm surprised you didn't find it earlier."

"Explain yourself, Charon!"

"It's simple," the old man simmered in his creepy voice. "I am _the_ _CEO of Fatty Burger_!"

Cyrus gasped in horror. "No! That is preposterous, that can't be!"

"Yes. We moved into the apartment and I quickly began building my laboratory and rising up the ranks of Fatty Burger. You oafs would never come down here; as long as I didn't get caught I could go anywhere I pleased thanks to the secret underground tunnels I built!"

"The landlord will discover this and I will be fined and it will be your fault!" He suddenly remembered the problem at hand, and held up the blueprints. "And explain this machine!"

Charon smirked, his face darkening. "That machine…think, Cyrus, you're the savant. Think of the addictive qualities of the burgers, the dead bodies, the hole in the back of the machine that connects to the user with wires— my brilliant plan is devious and revolutionary. My machine absorbs the life force from individuals, making me stronger _and_ younger! That's what all of the dead bodies were for, that's why there's an addictive ingredient in the burgers— so people continue to come back to Fatty Burger and eventually become my victims! Dead or alive, it makes no difference!"

At that moment Cyrus realized that Charon was far more evil than he had ever been, and he was quite jealous. However, he still had the capacity to gape in horror at the insane scientist.

"You do this, _and _you never washed my shirts!" he shouted angrily. "You are _evil_!"

"And do you know why I did this?" Charon asked, smirk turning sour. A vein pulsed in his liver-spotted forehead. "It was all because of YOU! _YOU_, with your stupid and small-minded plan for a new world. _YOU_, who never appreciated my genius. _YOU, _who forced me to live in the basement, where I never had access to any orange juice. You didn't _really _think Fatty Burger hired psychopathic criminals, did you? Your time is over, Cyrus— let's see who's going to rule the world now!"

"Charon, you don't have to do this!" Cyrus pleaded. "I'm sorry for what I did to you! Well, I'm not truly sorry but I understand that it was cruel! I've realized the importance of positive human interaction—"

"SHUT UP!" Charon boomed. "I've no need for your excuses. Do you know how old I am? Go on, ask me! ASK ME HOW OLD I AM!"

Cyrus sighed. "How old are you?"

"NINETY YEARS OLD! When you're my age, even five years of a fruitless effort is supremely wasted time. But now…now I'll get back all of those years, starting with your obnoxious little friend!"

"Barry had nothing to do with this!"

"I don't care! Now that you know about my plan there's no use hiding it anymore! It's time to unleash my machine on your new favorite place— the Fatty Burger restaurant!"

"NO!" Cyrus shrieked.

"Act quickly, Cyrus, and you may be able to save your stupid co-workers! Time is wasting; _tick tock_, don't miss your appointment with death!"

The computer went black. Cyrus stared stupidly at the screen, frozen and unsure what to do, when the doorbell chimed from up above, a far away sound that made him jump. He had forgotten about Cheryl!

He rushed up the basement stairs, sprinting to the door and throwing it open to reveal Cheryl standing in a pretty white sundress.

"Hi!" she chirped.

"WE MUST GO TO MY BASEMENT," Cyrus said loudly, panicked.

"Um—"

"I FOUND SOMETHING TERRIBLE!"

She frowned. "Cyrus, is…is everything all right?"

"No! Nothing is right! The elderly man living in the basement is the one behind the dead bodies in Fatty Burger and is about to unleash his life-sucking robot upon the restaurant! Quickly, we need to go!" He grabbed her hand before she could protest and ran down to the basement once again, showing Cheryl the giant computer screen and blueprints.

Her eyes widened with horror as Cyrus explained his story. "All this time, and you didn't _know_?"

He grabbed her shoulders, panicking. "We must do something!"

She shook away and looked at him squarely. "We need to get to Fatty Burger right now. Let's get on my bike and I'll take us there. You can sit in the passenger seat."

The two ran upstairs and as Cheryl went outside to ready her bike, Cyrus left a note on the front door:

SLAVES/EXECUTIVES

GONE TO SAVE WORLD FROM CHARON

MAY NOT RETURN

DINNER IS IN THE OVEN

He turned to see Cheryl on her bike and Cyrus climbed into the tiny passenger seat on the side, fitting a too-tight pink bike helmet on his head.

Cheryl kicked off and they took to the streets of Veilstone, destination Fatty Burger, prepared to save the world.

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><p><em>My apologies for the very long wait- the end of school is a busy time! Tune in next time (which will be soon!) for the final exciting installment of 'How Cyrus Got His Groove Back'!<em>

_Also, it would be fantastic if you could go to my profile and help me out by answering my poll. Thank you!_


	6. How Cyrus Got His Groove Back

_Cyrus 6: How Cyrus Got His Groove Back_

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><p>Cheryl peddled furiously through the streets of Veilstone, Cyrus riding along with her in the too-small seat on the side of the bicycle. Already they could see a smoke plume on the horizon, no doubt from Fatty Burger, although that was normal because Fatty Burger was rated The #1 Most Environmentally Unfriendly Company in all of the regions.<p>

"I'm sorry, Cheryl," Cyrus said as they moved closer to Fatty Burger. "This is all my fault. I'm the one to blame for this situation."

Cheryl huffed, focused on peddling. "No, Cyrus, don't worry, this is CAPITALISM'S fault."

"No, but honestly, this is my fault, I employed Charon and paid him less than minimum wage and forced him to live in my basement—"

"Save the confession for later, we're here!"

Cyrus shut up as Cheryl skidded into the parking lot and nimbly jumped off her bike. Cyrus struggled out of his kiddie seat and both looked over the fast-food scene in horror.

They arrived just in time to see a wave of people fleeing from Fatty Burger as the building crumbled around them. From the swaying rubble erupted a giant robot— Cyrus recognized it as the same design as Charon's blueprints. The giant mechanical octopus, holding itself up on two giant arms and the others six arms swirling around it, stepped from the rubble and onto the parking lot. Cyrus spotted Charon grinning madly in the glass-faced control chamber.

"_CYRUUSSSSS_!"

Cyrus looked to see Barry running towards him, arms flailing wildly. "_I was flipping burgers and counting my bellybutton lint when we heard this crash and the building started shaking and then we ran out and it was scary_—"

"Shut up," Cyrus commanded. Barry quieted. "This is my fault. I need to stop this before anyone gets hurt—"

He was cut off by several screams as Charon began to claim his first victims, picking up anyone he could grab and depositing them into the back of the control center. The machine glowed as each body was dropped into the machine, signifying their sinister end.

Barry's eyes widened. "My parents are going to _freak_ if I get killed by a giant evil octopus robot man!"

Their attention diverted to a panicked Looker running towards them, long overcoat flying behind him. "Cynthia, she is lost!" he cried, wringing his hands. "We were running and I look up and she has disappeared! Death could have became her!"

Cheryl gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Calm down, Looker, I'm sure she just got separated in the crowd." She turned to Cyrus. Her beautiful eyes were filled with worry. "What do we do now?"

"Duh duh duh duh," Cyrus said, before getting ahold of himself. He puffed out his weak and atrophied chest heroically. "Don't worry, Cheryl, I'll stop him!"

Resisting the urge to wet himself with fear, Cyrus ran up to the giant machine, ignoring the fact that it was murdering people at that very moment. He inhaled deeply, preparing himself for the confrontation.

"_CHARONNNN_!" he screamed.

The machine stopped as Charon noticed Cyrus's screaming figure. There was an insane laugh amplified by the microphone inside the control panel, and then the mad scientist's creaking voice echoed through the air.

"CYRUS! So good of you to join me in the mass murder of fast-food patrons for my own selfish ambition! Do you see now not to test the power of Dr. Charon Vanderplump?"

Cyrus ignored his stupid last name, searching deep into his heart. "Charon, I've learned something! The world _is_ worthwhile! People have reason to them and are worth respecting! Many of people are grotesque and obnoxious, in fact most of them, but some make the world better! I may have wronged you but that's no reason to hurt innocent people— these fast food patrons and workers have friends and family; you're causing nothing but pain by doing this! I changed, and so can you! You still have time to forgive the world!"

Charon did not speak for a moment. Faintly, Cyrus heard the soft sound of sniffling coming from Charon's microphone.

"That was…" Charon sniffed quietly, "that was…that was…_literally the worst, most heinous motivational speech I have ever heard in my entire life, and for that I'm going to kill all of your friends slowly and painfully_."

"Wait, what—"

A massive robotic arm rammed into Cyrus and threw him across the parking lot. He hit the asphalt hard and rolled a few times before gathering enough strength to rise. He groaned, sitting up, just in time to see the robot heading straight for Cheryl, Barry and Looker.

"CHERYL!" he screamed, "RUN!"

Barry, in all of his hyperactive glory, screamed at the sight of the robot and sprinted to Cyrus, Cheryl right on his tail. Looker attempted to follow them, but his comically slow and out-of-shape physique allowed him only a few strides before the machine picked him up in a claw, holding him high above the parking lot.

The three watched as Looker shrieked like a small child, dangled in the air.

"Oh, no," Cheryl whispered.

"Well, it could've been worse," Cyrus said. Cheryl elbowed him hard in the side. He realized that this was his cue to do something. He ran up to the machine, standing his ground despite the sheer mass of the robot.

"CHARON, STOP THIS!" he shouted up to the old man. "HE'S DONE NOTHING TO YOU!"

"On the contrary, Cyrus, he's at fault with both of us! If you don't recall, he tried to arrest us both! You've gone soft, haven't you?"

"He was just doing his job!" He looked around, noticing that Cheryl was expecting him to do something very heroic. "Take me instead! I'm the reason you've gone completely insane!"

"Hmm…_NO_! I'd rather see you suffer the loss of your friends. But this one, Cyrus?" The robotic arm gave Looker a little shake, causing the man to shriek again. "I'm practically doing you a favor!"

"You can't—"

"SHUT UP! Enough stalling, you're wasting my time! Say goodbye to your idiotic policeman friend!"

The robotic arm began to move towards the control chamber. Just when it seemed that Looker would reach certain doom, dangled high in the air over the machine, a flash of black darted from behind Cyrus and leapt up onto one of the lower arms of the robot. The figure scaled the robot before leaping on top of the control chamber. The figure was dressed in a black spandex bodysuit with a black luchador mask covering their face. The entire parking lot seemed to silence in the figure's strong, heroic glow.

Barry's eyes grew wide as he watched the figure perched tall on the machine. "It's…it's…" Tears of joy began to stream down his face. "_EL GATO NEGRO_!"

El Gato Negro punched through the glass on the front of the machine and with another strong punch knocked Charon unconscious. El Gato Negro nimbly leapt from the control chamber to the robotic arm that held Looker and pried the man out of its mechanical grasp. Holding the detective tightly, El Gato Negro jumped from the arm just as the robot began to shake violently, when suddenly a massive explosion erupted the machine. El Gato Negro leapt high through the air, the billowing explosion framing the heroic luchador and the detective who had just wet himself. El Gato Negro landed nimbly on the ground and the explosion promptly died down, the machine burning silently.

"Um," Cyrus said.

El Gato Negro brushed off their shoulders as Looker got his bearings and resigned himself to the fact that he had peed himself with fear.

"It is you who has saved me!" Looker exclaimed shakily to the luchador. "To who is it that I owe my thanks?"

El Gato Negro removed the luchador mask and a beautiful familiar face emerged along with flash of blonde hair. Everyone gaped at the unmasked El Gato Negro, none other than Cynthia.

"Ms. Cynthia!" Looker gasped. "It is you!"

"I suppose I have some explaining to do," Cynthia sighed, dropping her mask on the ground. "Being a Champion can be boring sometimes, and a few years ago I started up as a masked wrestler. It was an outlet for all of my boredom and energy. I climbed up the ranks and I became the famous El Gato Negro."

Barry's jaw dropped. "All this time, my masked wrestler hero was a LADY?"

She frowned at him. "Well, honestly, kid, it's not like I tried to look like a man with my costume. And I'm pretty sure in all of my matches it's clear that I have boobs. Did you even notice that I was the only wrestler who wasn't a 300-pound hairy man?"

Barry continued gaping at her.

"Never mind." She rolled her eyes and turned back to speak to Looker, but he was walking away, hands in his coat pockets.

"Looker! Where are you going?"

He looked over his shoulder mournfully. "Not only are you beautiful and smart, and the Champion, but now you are a famous wrestler of the masks! You are too perfect, and I am too imperfect. Sadness becomes me when I am around you." He turned away. "I will just go home and count the cracks in my ceiling again, which is what I do on every night of Thursday…"

Cynthia winced, following him before grabbing his shoulder. "No, Looker, wait. I realized that I've been a little blind recently." She smiled. "I was looking so hard to find the perfect person that I didn't realize that person was right in front of me."

Looker's face brightened magnificently. "Does this mean…coffee?"

"Yes, Looker." Cynthia smiled and took his hand. "Coffee."

The two lovebirds gazed at one another and then strolled away, presumably to finally have a cup of coffee.

Cyrus, Cheryl and Barry still stood near the burning wreckage of the robot, Charon clearly not of any threat to them anymore. Barry looked at the two, ignoring Cyrus's angry glare signifying that he should leave. "So, guys, are you going to make out or what?"

"LEAVE," Cyrus said.

Barry frowned at him. "My mom loves me!" he shouted before stomping away.

As Barry left, Cyrus turned to Cheryl shyly. "Still want to go on that date?"

She beamed at him. "Of course, silly. I know a great organic locavore vegan-vegetarian restaurant called Faux Pho Fo' Everyone!"

"That sounds…delicious?"

"It is!" Cheryl looked at the wreckage around them. "Let's go soon, this place is creeping me out. It's been a weird couple of weeks."

"It has," he responded, a look of realization spreading across his face. "But I believe that is a good thing."

"Really?"

"Yes. Despite everything negative, I believe that I have gone through a profound positive change…" Cyrus took Cheryl's hand as they began their walk to the restaurant, the new couple framed by the setting sun. "The change is simple, but important."

"Well, what is it?"

"Cheryl…" He smiled a rare smile. "It seems that I have obtained my groove back."

THE END

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><p><em>Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, everyone! I think I might have another story coming up— a rewrite. Could you all do me a favor and go vote on a poll on my profile? Or, you can answer the question in a review, perhaps:<em>

_"I dug up what I consider to be a great rewrite I did for my old completed Pokemon story. This is a total rewrite and very different from the published story- it will be M rated, and my other was T rated. QUESTION: how do I go about sharing the new content with Fanfiction? Replace the old chapters in the old story, or submit a totally new story?"_

_Thank you! Hope you all enjoyed this story!_


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